The Ultimate Betrayal
by Skrain Dukat
Summary: Something has happened. A gunshot, a suicide note, one CSI attempts to take their own life. But things are not always as they appear. Takes place INSTEAD of "Goodbye and Good Luck" in Season Eight.
1. Chapter 1

Sara sobbed as she felt the cold metal press against her temple; a gun held tightly in her hand. Tears spilled from her eyes, staining her suicide note as she wrote it:

_**I'm so sorry. I can't go on like this anymore. I hope that you can understand, everyone. I've lived my whole life with ghosts. Every year here, they've become more apparent. If I leave, I'll never come back. **_

She paused, shaking. She didn't know how long the break room would remain empty.

_**I know that I couldn't live without you all with me. That's why I feel I must do this. **_

_**Gil, I love you. I feel I always have. I'm so sorry.**_

_**Be well,**_

_**Sara**_

She clicked the pen and dropped it on the floor. She stood up and looked at the doorway. In the hallway she could see people passing, eyes fixated on carts and evidence and envelopes. She gave a quiet, frightened gasp, and gripped the trigger with her index finger.

"Goodbye," she whispered, closing her eyes.

She hesitated, hearing footsteps fast approaching. They stopped; she held her breath. "Sara?" a familiar voice, Grissom, asked, horrified.

Sara exhaled.

BANG!


	2. Chapter 2

Sara slumped forward, dropping the gun as she fell to the ground. Grissom rushed forward, hollering, "SOMEBODY GET PARAMEDICS! WE HAVE A CSI DOWN!" He took special care not to touch the gun as he moved to inspect the wound.

He felt for her pulse and heaved a small sigh of relief upon finding one. It was weak, but it was there. "Sara," he held her, cradling her in his lap. He heard footsteps hurrying down the hallway. "HELP, PLEASE!" he shouted again, "Please." His voice cracked as the severity of the situation hit him.

"Oh my God," he heard Nick murmur behind him. Grissom shot him a look over his shoulder.

"Call an ambulance, Nick, we can still save her, there's still time." It was all he could do to keep calm as he continued to take her vitals and try to stop the bleeding.

"Griss-"

"CALL AN AMBULANCE, Pancho, we don't have time for explanations right now!"

Nick could see the fright in his boss' eyes. Warrick was the next to arrive, making himself known with a rather loud, "Holy shit, what happened?" the sound of his shoes scuffing the floor as he bolted over to Grissom and Sara, and his large, gentle hands helping Grissom keep her going.

Nick had barely dialed his cell phone when paramedics arrived- the great thing about working with the police, emergency crews weren't even a phone call away.

They pushed Grissom and Warrick away as they surrounded Sara and worked on getting her onto a stretcher.

"What hospital are you bringing her to?" Grissom asked, repeating himself again and again in the shuffle. He jogged to keep up with them as they wheeled Sara out of the lab and protested when they tried to keep him out of the ambulance.

Catherine, at that point, had found them and was shouting at them to let Gil in the ambulance.

"HE'S HER SUPERVISOR!"

"I don't care if he's the President of the United States!" retorted a medic.

"She's my girlfriend," Grissom said, helplessly. The paramedic looked at him, then finally nodded. They climbed into the ambulance and, as they closed the doors, Grissom cried out to his team, "SEAL OFF THE BREAKROOM! IT'S EVIDENCE!"


	3. Chapter 3

At the hospital, Grissom sat in the waiting room, counting the lines in the carpeting. It had been four hours since they'd brought Sara in, and he hadn't heard anything yet. His team had come and gone in small groups, sighing and shaking their heads when doctors came out and had no news for them.

Nick had called nearly immediately and read him the suicide note. Saddened, Grissom had simply slumped further down in his chair, shaking his head and fighting back the onslaught of tears.

_It's all my fault, it's all my fault, it's all my fault, _ his guilt ran through his head again and again as he sat there. It was so deafening to him that when a doctor came out to notify him of Sara's condition, his name was called more than ten times.

Back at the lab, the team had analyzed the entire break room- twice. They hadn't found anything out of the ordinary. The gun was the one that Sara had been issued. The ink on the suicide note matched the blue, ball point pen they found under the table the note had been found on. The blood pool on the ground, other than the skids from Grissom's leg and the paramedics' boots, was consistent with a gunshot wound to the temple.

They'd done all they could until they could get at the clothing and items that Sara had been wearing.

Until that point, Catherine and Greg sat, motionless, in office chairs, on either side of the break room door, one hand on their cell phones, the other holding their foreheads as they counted the tiles on the floor.

Warrick had punched out early and gone out to a casino, the stress too much for him to handle. He sat, emotionless, betting far too much on losing hands of blackjack. Jim Brass arrived shortly after and pulled up a seat next to him.

Nick sat at Grissom's desk, in the dark, his head in his hands. Wendy eventually ended up in there, next to him.

It was nearing dawn. Conrad Ecklie had just arrived at the lab. Hodges had decided, since he knew no one else had phoned him, that he had to tell him what had happened. The reaction was exactly what Hodges had expected: a slightly interested grunt and a sip of his coffee as he continued walking.

Sadness hung in the air at the crime lab like smog as they awaited news on Sara's condition.


	4. Chapter 4

_It's all my fault. _ Tears dripped down Grissom's face as he stared at the floor. He noticed somebody's feet out in front of him. Slowly he looked up.

"Doctor Gil Grissom?" Grissom nodded. "I'm Doctor Haroldsen. I was the one that operated on miss Sidle."

Grissom stood up and wiped his eyes. "How is she?"

"She was lucky, Dr. Grissom. The bullet cracked her skull, but didn't penetrate it. We were fully able to stop the bleeding, although it was a bit touch and go there for a while. The bullet severed a few key blood vessels."  
"She's going to live?" he asked, hopefully. The doctor nodded.

"She hasn't woken up yet, she's got a pretty bad concussion from the gunshot, and she'll have a pretty good headache for the next month or two while the fractures in her skull heal, but she'll be just fine. We saved the bullet in a bag for your lab; we knew you'd want to take a look at it." Haroldsen was going to say more, but Grissom had thrown his arms around him and was hugging him.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

"It's just a bullet, Dr. Grissom."

Grissom looked at him, puzzled, for a moment, then laughed, "Not for the bullet! Though, I suppose my team will want to look at it. For Sara! Can I see her?"

Haroldsen nodded and pointed him in the direction of Sara's room. Grissom thanked him again, then hurried along down the hallway. When he reached her doorway, he stopped and peered inside. There was a single bed by a tiny window; a thin, white curtain separating a bathroom from the rest of the room.

He took a few timid steps forward, unsure what he was going to say, if he was going to say anything at all. He heard Sara whine softly in her sleep. He could tell she was in pain, with the concussion he knew they were going to limit the amount of pain medication she could get until she could remain awake and coherent on her own.

Noticing a chair by the window, Grissom walked over and sat down. "Why, Sara?" he whispered, looking at her. Sighing, he pulled out his cell phone and called Jim first.

As word spread through the graveyard shift that Sara was going to be okay, it was as if the entire lab breathed a sigh of relief. Friends hugged. Work resumed. Nick, Catherine, and Greg headed for the hospital to get the bullet. Well, not so much to get the bullet as to visit their friend and offer Grissom the support that they figured he would need.


	5. Chapter 5

Sara's head was swimming as she slowly woke up. It hurt to try to think. _Is this what death is like?_ She could hear someone talking, a doctor, maybe, and... Grissom? _Oh no. _She winced as the pain in the side of her head intensified. _It didn't work. _

Groaning, she opened her eyes to find herself where she had feared: a hospital bed. At the foot of her bed, she could see Grissom's, and a few others', coats piled. She found that her arms were strapped to the bed. Her legs, too. _Great, _she thought,_ I'm in the psych ward. _

"Um," she whispered, hoarsely, "my nose itches." She could hear footsteps, followed by the sight of Grissom, worried and tired, leaning over her.

"You're awake," he mused. She could see the sorrow she'd caused him in his eyes. He didn't look like he'd been crying, but he looked near the verge of tears.

"I guess I am," she said in her usual half-sarcastic voice. They both were silent for a moment.

"Gil, I-"

"Sara-" Gil stepped back and looked away. Sara sighed and looked out the window. "Why." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Gil..." Sara whispered, _What can I tell him? No doubt he hates me now. _"I wasn't doing it to hurt you."

"I walked into the break room before you did it. Why didn't you stop?" Grissom asked, emotionless.

Sara moved to grab his hand, and sighed when she remembered the arm restraints.

"Gil, are you who you want to be?" Sara asked after thinking for a moment. Taken aback by the the question, Gil didn't know what to say. "Because I'm not. I haven't been for a while." Seeing the hurt growing on her supervisor's face, she quickly added, "It's not because of us. Don't think that it is, Gil. I love you."

"Then why did you try to commit suicide right in front of me?" Grissom could no longer hold back the emotions that had been building within him. He started to cry. "Why, Sara?"

_I didn't want to hurt you, I didn't want to abandon you, I couldn't keep going on, I- _Thoughts raced through Sara's head, but none of them made sense.

"That case I've been working on. The girl and her brother, you know the one I'm talking about? He hung himself. I was the one who had to tell that girl that the person she cared about the most in the world had killed himself. Gil, I can't take it anymore. I can't do this. I can't stay here. I can't be a CSI anymore."

"So instead of coming to me, or telling Conrad that you quit, you try to kill yourself. I thought you were smarter than that, Sara. And I never knew you were that selfish." he started for the door.

"Gil, please don't leave me."

Grissom looked over his shoulder at the woman he loved, "You already left me."


	6. Chapter 6

Sara remained in the hospital for four days, watched closely by mental health professionals and medical doctors, before she was sufficiently healed to be released. On noon of the day she was to be released, a representative of the crime lab, some cop she'd never met, brought the belongings that the crime lab had taken for their investigation of her suicide attempt, including her cell phone, and somehow, her gun.

After Grissom left that first day, she hadn't had any visitors or phone calls. She ended up having to wear a hospital tee shirt from the gift shop because the shirt she had was far too bloodstained to be worn in public.

Once she was dressed and ready to go, she sat in the lobby with her cell phone in her lap. She wanted desperately to call Grissom and ask for a ride. But after what had happened, she was afraid he'd say no.

After an hour sitting there, she finally decided to call.

Grissom was sleeping when his cell phone rang. Sleepily, he flipped it open and answered it without looking at the caller ID. "Griss-aahm," he said with a yawn.

"Gil," Sara murmured.

He sat up in bed, fully awake. "Sara?"

"I-" Sara's voice quivered, "Could you... come pick me up at the hospital, please?"

Gil looked at the clock. "I'll be there in ten."

"Thanks." Sara so desperately wanted to say more.

"Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have another place to stay yet?" The coldness of his voice surprised both of them.

The heartbreak was audible in her voice, "No, I don't." Tears welled up in her eyes.

"You'll have to look for one. See you soon."

They both hung up, and they both burst into tears.


	7. Chapter 7

Sara leaned her uninjured side of her forehead against the window of the lobby and stared blankly out into the parking lot, her ability to cry long since spent. _I can't believe it's over. _

When she saw Grissom's SUV pull up outside the door, she sighed heavily. _You've really fucked up, now, Sara Sidle._

It took all of her remaining strength to walk out and get into the passenger seat of the vehicle. She didn't even have the heart to say 'hello.'

They drove in silence to their destination, which Sara had been assuming would be just the crime lab, or if she was really lucky, the townhouse they'd shared for nearly two years. But Grissom didn't turn off on either street. In fact, it seemed that he was driving further and further away from the areas of Vegas that Sara knew anything about.

"Gil, where are we going?"she asked, the curiosity that had served her so well in her job getting the better of her.

"You'll see." there was no emotion in his voice.

Gil Grissom pulled up to the hospital and sighed. He could see Sara through the lobby window. He wanted nothing more than for her to understand the pain he was feeling.

When she got in the car, he muttered a small, "Hello," but when he received no reply, he decided not to say anything more until they reached their destination.

When she asked where they were going, he knew she was trying to get him to talk to her. But he had to keep the wall he'd built in his mind standing tall and strong.

Gil turned down a street in one of the last neighborhoods before open desert and parked in front of what appeared to be an abandoned apartment building.

"What is this?" Sara asked.

Instead of answering, Gil got out and started heading inside. Sara followed, wondering what was going on. Once inside the lobby of the building, it seemed that Grissom had disappeared. Sara stood there, tense.

"Gil?"

"I'm up here, Sara."

Sara looked up and saw Grissom standing on the wrong side of the railing on one of the upper floors. Horrified, Sara froze. "Gil, what are you doing? You could fall!"

Gil dug something out of his pocket and tossed it down to her.

Then he let go of the railing.

"GIL! NO!" the scream escaped Sara's lips before she realized it, and she ran to try and break his fall.


	8. Chapter 8

Sara's screams echoed through the empty building. She closed her eyes, unable to watch the man she loved plummet to his death. Waiting for the inevitable thud that would signify his death, she realized it wasn't coming. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw that, rather than jumping to his death in the lobby, he was strung up around the neck.

She let out a deafening scream as she tried, quite desperately, to get him down.

It was only when she heard him laughing that she started questioning what was going on. It was then that she saw the other rope; the rope that was connected to the harness he was wearing. Gil's eyes snapped open. "Not a very good thing to witness, is it?"

"What the HELL, Gil." She shoved him and started walking away. Gil cut himself loose and chased after her.

"How do you think I felt when you shot yourself?" he asked, his voice harsh. He stopped to pick up what he'd tossed down to her. "What do you think it was like to read the suicide note of the person you trust the most?"

"That was TOTALLY different, Gil. You brought me out here JUST TO DO THAT TO ME," her voice was choked and quivering. Gil grabbed her arm to stop her from walking away.

"I brought you out here to show you what it was like for me."

"So, what, am I just another one of your human experiments, Gil? Are you trying to see how far someone has to push me until I snap? Trying to see my breaking point? Well I've got news for you. I reached that last week. Why do you think I DIDN'T come to you, hmmm? You don't know ANYTHING about dealing with the living."

"I would've at least TRIED to help. That's what people do for other people that they love. At least I know that much."

"Oh, so this is helping?" Sara's voice was more angry than upset now. She had turned and was looking him square in the eyes.

Gil remained silent for a moment. He was being a fool, and he knew it. "Let's go home," he muttered.


	9. Chapter 9

The whole ride home Sara sat in the backseat, glaring at the back of Grissom's head. She planned to pack her essentials in an overnight bag and leave the second they got back to the townhouse. She could always send for the rest of her stuff if she decided to leave him permanently.

"Hank's missed you,"Grissom muttered, a futile attempt to start up a conversation. Sara shrugged, still glaring at him. "I missed you, too."

"Good for you."

"Sara, being so hostile isn't going to change anything."

"Well then you should think it through more before the next time you try to teach me a fucking lesson by doing something incredibly stupid and hurtful!"

When they reached the townhouse, Sara opened her door and practically sprinted out. Looking at their windows, however, she was confused. Above their door was a banner that read 'Welcome Home Sara,' and Catherine, Nick, and Greg's cars were all in the driveway. "What?"

"We're happy you're out of the hospital," Grissom said, walking up behind her.

"But nobody visited me the whole time."

"Well you put us through hell, Sara," Nick's voice came from their doorway.

"Yeah, you wouldn't believe the fog over the crime lab when they brought you away," Greg chimed in.

"Listen, guys, I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but-" Sara winced as a dull pain started to throb in her temple; the last dose of painkillers wearing off, "I really need some time alone with Grissom."


	10. Chapter 10

Catherine was the last to leave the townhouse. Warrick, Nick, and Greg were quick to oblige; the labrats took a bit more coaxing by Gil; and Jim left as soon as he'd finished discussing something with Gil and given Sara a hug. But Catherine pulled Sara into the hallway, refusing to leave until she'd discussed something with her that she said was very important.

"Cath, really, I'm in no mood to talk," Sara protested, gingerly touching her forehead. Catherine shook her head and took Sara by the shoulders in a sort of motherly way.

"Sara, I have to know why you did it."

"Cath-"

"Was it Grissom? Are you two having problems?"

"Cath, really, I don't want to talk about it!"

Catherine shook her a little. "Sara, this isn't a matter of WANTING to talk about it. If you two are having problems, I want to help. Even if you're not, I want to help. I want to help you."

"Well, you can't. Okay? This is something I have to work out on my own. It's not a problem with Grissom. It's not a problem with you guys. It's a personal issue, and I can take care of it myself."

Catherine gave her a look that said 'Oh, come on. You shot yourself in the head. Sure, you can deal with it yourself, what next, slashing your wrists?'

"If you want to know what's going on in my head, go look at the case files I've been working on," Sara said with a sigh, "Now please, I need some alone time with Gil." She pulled her friend in for a hug.

Catherine finally agreed to leave, and Sara and Gil were finally alone.

Sara walked into their shared bedroom, where she found Hank laying at the foot of the bed, sleeping. Smiling, she sat down next to him and gave him a big hug. Hank's eyes opened, and, upon seeing Sara, he gave a happy bark and licked her face. "I'm glad there's someone here who won't question me."

She heard Grissom clear his throat, looked up, and saw him standing in the doorway. "How's your head feeling?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Sore," was Sara's reply as she turned her attention back to the dog.

"Anything I can do to help?" Gil asked as he slowly walked into the room. Sara shook her head, rubbing Hank's belly. "Sara, you told them all to leave because you wanted us to be alone. And I want to understand what's going on here."

_I'm heavily considering leaving you for what you did to me today. I can't believe you would make light of how I'm feeling. I can't believe you saved me. _"I'm tired."

"So you want to go to bed?"

"No, I'm mentally tired, not physically. I'm tired of seeing death everyday. I'm tired of TALKING about death everyday."

Grissom sat down next to her and gently touched her cheek. "So you decide to go through death rather than talking to me?"

"I didn't think you'd understand."


	11. Chapter 11

Grissom leaned forward and kissed her softly. As their lips parted, he whispered, "Even if I didn't understand, I could've still listened."

While they sat there, Hank decided that it was time for him to move over and lay across their laps, belly up. Sara smiled and rubbed Hank's belly, leaning forward and kissing Gil again. She wrapped her free arm around Gil's neck, pulling him closer.

When Sara stopped rubbing Hank's tummy to wrap that arm around Gil as well, Hank gave a dissatisfied whine. Gil, however, gave an intrigued groan.

And when they finally came up for air, Sara inched closer and rested her chin on Grissom's shoulder. "I love you," she whispered. She felt warm and safe, and she barely even felt the sharp, stinging pain in her forehead. Nor did she notice the blood that had just begun to run down the side of her face. She closed her eyes.

"I love you, too, Sara," was Gil's reply, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly. When he felt wetness on his shoulder, he thought that she'd started crying. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, just a little tired," Sara yawned.

It was then that Gil realized that something wasn't right. He pulled away to look at her, and his eyes widened in horror. The bandage that was protecting her stitches was bright red, and blood was trickling steadily down the side of her face.

"Sara-" he gasped, "We have to get you to the hospital."

But Sara had collapsed back into his arms.


	12. Chapter 12

After another two and a half hours, three doctors' opinions, and six fresh stitches, it had been decided that Sara had been stressing too much since her suicide attempt. Grissom was given strict orders to get her relaxed and keep her that way. Sara, on the other hand, was ordered to rest as much as possible. Her blood pressure had shot up to a dangerous level when Grissom had scared her, but the effects didn't present themselves until far later, when the stitches had already loosened up quite a bit.

On the way home she demanded that she be allowed to drive. She did not want a repeat of last time. The trip was made in silence, save for the sound of their hearts beating and their breathing.

Once home, Sara immediately opted to take a bath.

"Go right ahead, just remember, you aren't supposed-" She cut Gil off by placing a finger across his lips.

"I can't get too hot. I know. My blood pressure and this damn head wound, blah blah blah." She kissed his cheek and then walked into the bathroom.

Gil decided to go into the kitchen and make himself a sandwich and a pot of coffee. It had been a long, long day, and he still had to go to work. He was worried, though. Worried about Sara, how lightly she was taking all of this. The way she wouldn't talk to him.

He brought his cup of coffee and sandwich up to the living room and turned on the television. Sipping his coffee, he flipped past the local channels- crime drama, fake forensics show, crappy sitcom, crime drama, crime drama- and straight to the regional news channel.

It was no small measure of surprise in him when he heard the news anchor talking about Sara.


	13. Chapter 13

"-Miss Sidle, seen here in footage from the Holly Gribbs case eight years ago, made a suicide attempt earlier this week. But the attempt wasn't made in the safety of her own home, nor was it made out in the desert or anywhere else in the city, but in the city's crime lab, where she works as a crime scene investigator.

"Because of this, her attempt is being viewed as a cry for help, and her friends are pleading with her to get the help she desperately needs."

The screen cut to what appeared to be a live feed from the lab.

"I'm here with the team of investigators she's worked with since she transferred here. Mr. Stokes, what can you tell us about her mental state?"

"Don't say anything stupid, Nick," Gil whispered gruffly at his television.

"Well, um, this isn't to say that I really am the one you should be talking to, but Sara and I have been friends for years, she's never seemed very depressed. Not that she's ever really been the life of the party or anything, but I never thought she'd do this."

"What about you, Mr. Brown?" the reporter moved over to Warrick, who was standing next to Nick; it was obvious to Gil that they'd come by to pick up some swing shift hours.

"I really have no comment."

"Good man, Warrick, remind me to recommend you for a raise," Gil muttered.

Sara came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe, and sat on the couch next to Gil.

"What's this?" she asked, stealing a sip of his coffee.

"Apparently, you're headline news material," was Gil's reply.

"-Her fiancee was not available for comment when we stopped by their shared townhome earlier today, but we're sure he wishes the same thing as the rest of us- that Sara Sidle seek professional help before returning to work," the anchor finished. Gil switched off the television.

Sara stared at the blank screen, shocked.

"You're fuckin' kidding, me, right? They did a news story on me, didn't even APPROACH me, but tried to find you?"Sara asked, a hint of anger in her voice, "And they think I need professional help. Who put them up to this, Ecklie? Catherine? I don't need help. In fact, if I need ANYTHING, it's to be left alone."

"Sara, calm down," Gil said, his voice low and level.

"WHY SHOULD I CALM DOWN?" there were tears in her eyes. "I wanted to die, Gil. I didn't want this attention."

"Do you still want to die?"

The question surprised Sara. The calmness of Gil's voice when he asked it. The lack of emotion on his face.

"Well, I-" _God, what do I say? No, thanks to your little rescue, I'm fully interested in living again? Yes, just being saved by a knight in a dark polo shirt didn't change my mind? _"I don't know." It was a truthful statement.


	14. Chapter 14

"I think we should break up," the words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Her eyes, along with Gil's, grew wide, and Sara put her hand to her mouth, as though to try to stop herself from saying it.

"You don't really mean that," Gil stated, but there was a tone of questioning in his voice, "Please say you don't mean it."

"Gil, I-" Sara turned and walked into the bedroom. She could feel tears welling in her eyes and she couldn't show him her tears anymore.

"Sara!" Grissom called after her. Sara got dressed as quickly as she could, grabbed a duffel bag from the closet, and threw her clothes into it. Gil walked into the room, and when he saw what she was doing, he was heartbroken. "Sara," he sighed, "I won't try to stop you. But I don't understand what good this will do. Where will you go?" His voice was as steady as it had been the whole night.

"I'll-I'll f-f-find some-" Sara's voice cracked and caught in her throat. She held her arm to her face, trying hard not to start crying. "-Somewhere. I just- I can't do this anymore." She turned and looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. Gil frowned; he wanted so much to just hold her and comfort her.

"If that's how you feel," it took Gil every ounce of strength he had to keep speaking, it broke his heart to say every word, "I won't stop you."

Sara sobbed. She didn't want to believe that Gil could say that. She zipped the duffel bag, picked it up, and headed for the door. She wrapped her free arm around Gil, giving him the tightest hug she could muster, and kissed him passionately, then walked out of the room and out of the townhome.


	15. Chapter 15

Grissom heard the door slam shut and his heart hit the floor. He sat down on the bed and sobbed, ignoring Hank when he came over to lick his hands and cheer him up the way only a dog can. He couldn't believe he'd just let Sara leave without trying to stop her. He knew that he had to let her go, had to give her any freedom she asked for. He couldn't expect her to want to spend life with him. He loved her.

He cried himself into an awkward, restless sleep. He didn't hear it start to rain outside. Nor did he hear his door creak open again, or the thud of heavy footsteps down the hall.

He awoke when he felt a sharp pain on the side of his head. Disoriented, he could feel himself being dragged out of the townhouse by his wrists. The cold rain was a shock to his system, the piercing barks coming from Hank, the pained howl as somebody shut him up.

"Wha-?" Grissom asked as he was dragged out into the driveway and leaned against the wheel of a car. He winced as something hit his head, the butt of a pistol. He couldn't think or see straight. He felt cold metal latching around his wrists and ankles. There was an awful ringing in his ears.

Strong hands- six of them- picked him up and threw him forcefully into the trunk of a car. He looked up at his assailants, the three men who stood there, staring at him, in the rain. He could almost see their faces.

"Why-" he blurted as the trunk slammed shut.

Sara decided to go to Catherine's house. She figured that if any of her friends would understand, it would be her.

Catherine welcomed her into her house with open arms. She listened to everything Sara had to say, and offered what little advice she could, and Sara decided sometime around 8:00pm, that she would go back. She figured, if nothing else, she'd catch Grissom before he went to work. She just hoped that he'd welcome her.

But when she arrived, she found the place to be trashed, Hank laying in a pool of blood in the kitchen, the television and all the windows broken. And Grissom was nowhere to be found. Immediately, she flipped open her cell phone and called 911.

Author's Notes

That's all she wrote for this one! There will be a sequel. Or will there?

Hey, thanks for all the views and reviews! That makes me all happy and stuff. I sure do love to pick on Grissom and Sara, but I think after how many years Grissom has spent investigating murders and such, he'd have some enemies. I'm rather stunned he hasn't been cornered, abducted, or had attempts on his life more often, really.


End file.
